


The Alchemists' Legacy

by VLVTwrites



Category: Original Work
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aphrodisiacs, Begging, Cover Art, Double Penetration, Fantasy, Female Protagonist, Forced Orgasm, Genital Torture, Loss of Control, Other, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Screaming, Sensory Deprivation, Succubi & Incubi, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacles, Unconscious Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VLVTwrites/pseuds/VLVTwrites
Summary: In their greed, mankind brought these monsters upon themselves. Abominations of writhing flesh, always wet and always hungry. In the recesses of a damp cave, Tabitha finds not only a festing Slaver, but a radiant woman fit for rescue.





	The Alchemists' Legacy

Every nerve ignited as Tabitha pressed onward, into the mouth of the cave. Ducking to fit through the entrance, her fingers found the stone pleasantly smooth from centuries of rainfall. Inside, it was so humid that she could hardly tell where the rainforest ended and the cave began.  
  
"Well, this is definitely the place," she said quietly.  
  
Tabitha knew there was danger ahead. Quite literally, she could _smell_ it. With each step, the stench of sex grew more potent and the air more stifling. There was some variety of Slaver at work deeper within the cave, that much was obvious. Far from prying eyes, hidden away. Like the old adage went, "If you stray from the path, you'll find them if they don't find you first."  
  
It's not a motto many choose to live by.  
  
Boys are taught since childhood the means to avoid them: how to identify their hunting grounds and where never to go alone. Girls are taught this too, but even more so, they're taught _fear_. Abominations of writhing flesh, always wet and always hungry. A persistent threat to their autonomy, their sanity, and their life.  
  
Mankind brought these monsters upon themselves. Alchemists, in a bid to cleanse the world of the powerful and wicked demons called Succubi, used their science to breed living weapons. At least that's the way the history books describe it; the reality of the situation was a bit more complicated.  
  
When this "war" began, Succubi had been coexisting on our plane for almost a hundred years. Though they were often feared and largely misunderstood, there wasn't a soul alive who doubted their allure. Alchemists took special interest in their knowledge, eventually finding incredible value in... of all things, their genital secretions.  
  
It wasn't long before demand for their distillates surpassed what the Succubi could, or were willing, to supply. Succubi went missing. One at first, then hundreds. Deep in Alchemist lairs, these women were held captive and turned into production factories for a single valuable commodity. Biological monstrosities were made to contain and ravage their bodies, keeping them hydrated while collecting every drop that fell from their cunts. They were studied, and their captors tinkered endlessly with their creations until they functioned _optimally_.  
  
By the time they realized they were at war, the Succubi had already lost. Their meeting places were sacked, homes were marked, and so they scattered and moved into hiding far from the eyes of the Capital. In a few short months, the creatures were modified to hunt Succubus to the ends of the Earth. This was the birth of the Slaver.  
  
Their campaign worked. As the war died down and even the victorious Alchemist faction slipped into obscurity, humanity was left to deal with these homunculus roaming the land. With no one else to feed on, the creatures learned to taste and to savor the flesh of mortals. They hide in the wilds, just close enough to civilization to hunt. With their victim in hand, they hide or burrow, so their intimacy can be shared without interruption until their task is done. The Hunter guild was formed to track the remaining creatures, and people like Tabitha were the sword with which they were destroyed.  
  
The cave had almost grown too dark to see, so Tabitha pulled a torch and struck its handle to the ground. It sputtered to life, quickly illuminating the far reaches. The kindling which fueled its crimson light was mixed specifically for the task at hand, as it soothed the easily-excitable senses of her Slaver prey.  
  
Along the far wall was a fork in her path. With the torch her companion, she moved quickly to investigate the two branches, eyes set keenly on the walls around her.  
  
"Stinks," she murmured, smelling the air. It was unusually foul. There had to be more than one victim to yield this much moisture.  
  
Choosing her path was a fairly routine exercise at this point. Mossy lichen grew denser and more varied down one way, so that way she ventured. The vegetation was colorful, even with only the blaring red from her torch to reflect. It danced in the flickering light as she moved. Barely a dozen meters down the path, the walls grew narrower, and the air uncomfortably hot. She unbuttoned her jacket and tied it to her waist. There were sounds ahead, but faint. This part always made her a bit giddy. With her free hand she bore down on the butt of her knife, and she pushed on.  
  
Less than ten Hunters worked in the field, of whom Tabitha was the most experienced. These people were rather unusual specimens, their unique physiology making them all but invisible to their prey. They always traveled alone. Bringing along "bait" was a mistake Tabitha made only once. At the time, she was absolutely sure she could protect the girl from attack. But meeting her, teaching her the basics, and sleeping in the same carriage created unforeseen complications. Some unknown variable flipped, and Tabitha was marked for capture as well.  
  
Almost as soon as they were beyond earshot of Tabitha's camp, two writhing masses of muscle fell from high above, knocking both Tabitha and her bait to the ground. The attack was quick and brutal. As hard as she tried to squirm to safety, there was simply no way out from under the creature. Its appendages wound around her neck and swallowed her arms and legs. Wetness spilled over her chest and her crotch, allowing its tendrils to rip her clothing to shreds wherever they tugged. Caressing her face, the creature's "hands" blinded her throughout the attack. They covered her mouth and her ears and held her still. One by one, it dulled or blocked her senses until only touch remained.  
  
Everything she knew about sex, and all of the stories and research went right out the window when it began to fuck her, and it wasted no time in that. It raped her, yes, but it cared so much to make her feel pleasure. Too much. Tabitha would later liken the experience to hearing a song you love, only far too loud. As the ears wince in pain from overwhelming sound, so her entire nervous system cried out from the stimulation the Slaver wrought. As for its effectiveness in wringing "essence" from its captive, Tabitha glosses over the details in her lectures.  
  
Tabitha stepped through the narrow passage into a larger room. Tentatively waving her torch, she surveyed from the entrance. The light revealed something out of place amidst the stone and vines. Tucked away in a nook, an organic mass of red flesh and beating musculature hid in the shadows. Its feelers wriggled along the ground, pouring every which way from a central body.  
  
"There you are!"  
  
Tabitha approached cautiously, checking near and far for signs of the others. Though the room was somewhat spacious, they were alone. Three exits, including the one she'd come from, left the impression that the cave might be quite expansive. If that were the case, they could still be much further off. Before getting any closer, she stopped for a moment. Her heart was beating faster than it had any right to, so she took a second to collect herself. "Breathe," she thought, slowing her respiration with concentrated effort.  
  
Even all these years after the attack, her adrenaline levels were off. Though she was still invisible to Slavers, that encounter somehow changed her. Sleepless nights afflicted her for months, and her fantasies grew dark and intrusive. The irony of it all was that her experience made her a better Hunter. Against her better judgement, she thought back to the rape, and that unbearable sense of hopelessness.  
  
Pinned underneath the writhing creature, her thoughts turned instantly black. "This one's different," she'd thought, "This one can see me! It's got me! It will hide me, and it will _fuck_ me to _death_." All the minutiae of hunting and killing the beasts—her life's work—were in an instant useless. Her arms were bound _forever_, and they would never let her retaliate. Her legs were bound _forever_, and they would never let her run. Because of a single mistake, she was forever lost to the world, a sacrifice to a Slaver no different from the victims she'd fought to protect.  
  
As far as she knew, there was no escape and no recourse. Even as it carried her to seclusion, it'd already begun to work her over. Great walls of ribbed flesh moved about with animal strength, yet clarity of purpose in their design. The mental fortitude she mustered in defense was irrelevant. Screaming into a kind of "gag" from the moment it started, its command over her body pushed her to climax against the strongest disgust. And while she fought with every ounce of her strength to deny the creature its objective, she knew it would never stop for all her insistence. The fight drained from her quickly, and in fainting, her mind took her to safety.  
  
That day ended in a rain-filled ditch, with Tabitha dazed and confused, but free. Blinded by the sunlight, it took some time to get her bearings. Why had it ejected her? It was nowhere to be seen, and she wasn't even sure which way to camp. Everything was sore. She took stock of herself—no injuries, clothing in shambles. Wristwatch was fine, she was not. Only two hours had passed.  
  
She collapsed back to the ground, balled into herself, unsure whether to sleep or cry, until a rising heat in her groin brought about other concerns. At first just a nag, soon an overwhelming lust grew inside her. The Slaver's poison was still coursing through her veins. It couldn't wait. She needed relief, no matter how undignified. Hunched over in the mud, quiet and frenzied, she masturbated until long after the sun had set behind the trees.  
  
Breathing slowly wasn't working, but she could deal.  
  
Having finished the more arduous task of locating her target, she had three steps by her reckoning before the job was done: Study, Control, and Resolve. Tabitha closed the distance, moving in to inspect the Slaver's catch. "_Healthy_," she thought. The woman was beautiful, and far less emaciated than she'd grown accustomed to finding in the clutches of these creatures. Most of the Slavers fed their victims just enough to keep them alive, but this one was thriving. Was it feeding her more? Exercising her muscles? Her skin almost shimmered, it was such a resonant white.  
  
"Been here a while… so why are you just the picture of health?"  
  
A kind of swell in Tabitha's heart filled her with a hope she hadn't had in years. This woman might be fit for rescue! After dozens of inspections in lurid caves and treetops, she'd never found a victim of sound mind. Even her "bait" all those years ago, whom she'd tracked and found in three days time, had lost her mind to the Slaver which held her. The authority granted to Hunters to euthanize Slaver victims was on paper a last resort, but in reality it was her job. She put her hand on the woman's cheek.  
  
"Warm…"  
  
The woman sat like a queen upon her throne, though perhaps more lewdly than any queen of men should. All along her body, bands of flesh strapped her down to the creature. It seemed rather comfortable, were it not for the restrictive nature of its design. "What's with this shape," Tabitha wondered aloud. The whole thing resembled a chair, huge and luxurious. Bulbous armrests propped up her arms and held them fast by the wrists. Her legs were kept wide apart, shacked at the ankles and the knees to free up space between her legs.  
  
A free-standing mass of flesh held tight to her crotch, securing its prized possession with dozens of thin tendrils wrapping about her pelvis. It shook terrifically, betraying the violent sexual tortures happening underneath. Tabitha knew how this particular formation worked. Inside the big sack, it would process her secretions into healing and aphrodisiacal drugs, which it ejaculates into her rectum. The incessant tune of squelches and gurgles were fairly quiet, all things considered. Forceful as it was, the woman was out cold.  
  
Overall, it was awkward for a creature of the hunt. An elegant fixture, but baffling to think about how it would catch its prey. Tabitha set down the torch and leaned in close to inspect the mechanics of its motility. Gripping at a kind of fleshy skirt which draped all around the Slaver, she pulled upward gently. It was heavy, but she was able to move it and peek underneath. Propping its heft atop her knee, she pulled the torch close to see into the dark. Within was a sight of puzzlingly human origin. Wood, metal, and earthy green leather shone back in the torchlight, damaged by time and moisture.  
  
"This didn't catch you… you sat down on it! _Why?_"  
  
A noise broke Tabitha's concentration, causing her to stagger backward and drop the Slaver's flesh to the ground. The woman was awake—wide awake—roused suddenly by the Slaver pushing her over the precipice to orgasm. Her eyes were fixed on Tabitha, ferocious. "_Who—_" she started, only to be interrupted by the spasms in her cunt consuming every ounce of her consciousness. She hunkered down and grunted like an animal, pulling her arms and legs desperately at the Slaver's restraints before she just stopped and stared down at her crotch. She bore her eyes into the creature's soulless appendages as it wrung the come from her body.  
  
Admitting her defeat, she let out a long groan and laid back as it finished her off. Dazed and breathless, she reeled her head toward Tabitha. "Who are you?"  
  
"I— I'm Tabitha," she started, suddenly taken by the woman's beauty, "I'm here to rescue you."  
  
"Idiot! Get out of here before they catch you!" The reaction wasn't exactly what Tabitha was expecting. She seemed incredulous, almost angry. Tabitha gripped her knife and reassured the captive woman, "Don't worry, I'm completely invisible to them."  
  
"You—_what?_ That's great, then. We should still keep our voices down… My name—"  
  
She stopped cold, looking right through Tabitha.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
The woman returned her gaze toward her crotch, already overwhelmed by the Slaver's ministrations. The sight brought a strange new distraction into Tabitha's world as she watched the beautiful woman grimace and bear down. Her body fought with all the ferocity her trapped cunt lacked—rippling muscles making a futile showing of resistance to its incessant fucking. Then, it happened. Frozen into a quiet rapture, the woman lost her little fight and accepted another betrayal of her body. For just a moment, Tabitha thought the woman was born to bear that expression.  
  
Panting, the woman was first to get her wits about her. "Please get me out of this fucking thing! _Please!_"  
  
"Right! Sorry!"  
  
"Lys. My name is Lys."  
  
What was this embarrassment? Tabitha busied herself preparing her tools. She worked quickly, but her hands were the most important tool of all. Back and forth, Tabitha traced fingertips along the creature's flesh. Her lips moved in silence as she counted to herself, and Lys watched on in fascination. One by one, she found and tested the "nerves" that controlled the creature.  
  
"I'm going to release your arms, make sure to lift them up as soon as you feel its grip loosen."  
  
Her arms came rocketing up from the armrests.  
  
"Good, your muscles are in great shape. I'm going to work on freeing your neck and chest next."  
  
"Can… can you please focus on this?" Lys pointed to the fat pod that hugged her hips and held her cunt hostage.  
  
"S—sorry," Tabitha started, "I'm working as fast as I can, but we should dislodge that last."  
  
She'd just lied. The thing was independent from the rest, and she could have started there. But she didn't. The whole experience was such a departure from the norm that Tabitha wasn't sure quite how to act. Wasn't she a virtuous person? It was a harmless lie, anyway, as she _was_ really dedicated to freeing the woman and taking her to safety.  
  
So why did she lie?  
  
"Oh—" Lys said under her breath. Tabitha was too lost in thought to glean the context of Lys' moan, and so she looked up plainly and asked "Yes?"  
  
Lys' face soured as she let out another "Oh", only longer and meandering. The Slaver brought her to an orgasm the likes of which few will ever experience. Lys began to scream with complete abandon, swinging her fists ineffectually at the hard skin which housed the offending flesh. Tabitha tried to calm her, but Lys was in a panic, attempting to pry the thing away from her pelvis with no success. Her screams echoed terrifically off the cave walls long after Lys ran out of consciousness and succumbed to sleep.  
  
"I'm sorry…" Tabitha admitted.  
  
She returned to her work, disconnecting bits and pieces of Lys' restraints and tugging her free. It was the same procedure she normally used to pull out a euthanized victim. This time was different. No funeral, no paperwork to the family. This strange woman, able to keep her wits about her, would be going home.  
  
The pelvic tendrils snapped open in rapid succession, allowing Tabitha to finally free Lys from her violation. After carefully dislodging the mass of tiny fiber-thin strands knotted around her clitoris, Tabitha yanked the whole pod away from Lys and threw it to the ground. Its bulbs and protrusions continued their motions against the warm air, never even thinking to stop.  
  
Tabitha was just strong enough to carry the girl, but making it out of the cave and back to camp would be difficult. Lys slept soundly, safely propped up between Tabitha and a wall, wrapped in her jacket. The Slaver was still alive, sedated; killing it could wait until Lys was conscious.  
  
"You're safe now," she whispered. Tabitha brought her face into Lys' long silver hair. The smell of it was sweet and fragrant. It wasn't even matted, though the girl was drenched in sweat.  
  
"But what are you?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first published textual work, and I was so excited I made cover art for it. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves.
> 
> This may end up being a three-part story. Expect the rest Soon™


End file.
